Verisimilitude
by TheNightIsFading
Summary: Pavarti and Padma Patil arrive home one summer to find that their mother has abandoned them. They spend the summer discovering their true selves, and what friendship really means.
1. Padma

**Author's Note:** _Comments are always appreciated. Just let me know you read it. I would love to know what you think. This story has been a long time in the making. It's an experiment for me, as I rarely write in the first person. _

**Disclaimer: **_If you're dumb enough to think that I own any Harry Potter characters, you are the one who ought to be sued, not me. _

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**Padma**

I never expected much from either of them. My mother had let me down so many times I hardly understood the concept of up, and my sister was her lackey, believing that she could do no wrong, and that her mistakes simply proved her humanity. I suppose it's my fault in some aspects. As a child I believed my sister to be more delicate than I, and tried my best to shield her from our mother's abusive behavior.

As we stepped off the Hogwarts Express that June, and looked around, realizing that our mother had not come to collect us, I knew that this time I could not protect my sister. She continued to look around with wide eyes for several moments after my shoulders had slumped in defeat.

Finally she turned to me, sadness shining in her eyes. "I suppose she isn't coming?" Pavarti said. It was a noble attempt to appear carefree, but I knew she was crushed.

"I guess not," I replied, staring at the ground. Friends and their families drifted past, calling out farewells, and I couldn't bear to look at their happy, excited faces.

A flash of rage breezed across my sister's face as she straightened her shoulders and grabbed a hold of her luggage. "Well then, we ought to get started walking, eh?"

She walked off, head held high, at a fast pace. I had much less luggage than her, and I could hardly manage to keep up. Hurrying behind her, I could nearly feel the fury emanating from her.

When my usually carefree sister got angry, it could be like a bomb exploding. She had once destroyed her best friend's wand in a fit of rage, and had burnt some of my clothing at one point. Usually I was the only one who could calm her down. I knew that this was not the time to talk, however. The walk might very well cool her off.

And it would be a very long walk. Luckily, our home was in London. We wouldn't be forced to hitchhike with our spell books and owls in tow. Still, it would take awhile to reach our house.

Faster and faster Pavarti marched until I was forced to call out, "Pavarti! Slow down!"

She stopped suddenly, and I saw that her shoulders were trembling. Dropping my bags I ran to her.

She looked at me, tears streaking down her face. "She's always been like this, init? I just never noticed."

There was no point in disagreeing. I nodded slowly, looking into her eyes, which were mirror images of mine, allowing for the tears, of course.

"Ah," she said slowly, dropping all pretension she normal held. Even I, her sister and dearest friend, knew her mainly to be a selfish, stuck up girl who was very much in love with herself. Now she stared up slightly, at the sky. Her lips moved vaguely, and I knew that she was praying. Then a tear slipped out of her eye, and another, and another, until it was raining from her eyes. She managed to stand tall for several minutes, as I watched her struggle with something inside of her. It was like seeing a demon trying to free itself from her skin.

Finally a small gasp escaped her mouth, and she crumbled to the ground, wailing. Even from a child I had never heard such a pitiful sound.

I tried to comfort her for upwards of five minutes, until a car full of teenage boys drove by, as I held her in my arms, and yelled, "Hey lesbos!"

Pavarti lifted up her head, silenced. Then she began to giggle, wiping at her eyes. Her laughter became manic as we struggled to continue walking. We had to pause every few feet, as she could not control her laughter.

I admit to feel very guilty for hiding our mother's problems from her for so long. But I was glad, at least, that I did not have to remember things now.

Pavarti was always the pretty, popular twin, although we looked exactly alike. She was the one whose radiance shone. And while she basked in the spotlight of childhood, I was quiet, more intelligent. I spent my childhood years keeping numerous journals. I know there are things missing from them. There is a lot of my life that I do not remember and never will.

Coming home to find our house darkened and abandoned looking was no surprise to me, but as we stepped around the corner, I think Pavarti might have cried, were she not so exhausted and shell-shocked.

We dragged our things to the front door, and I wondered why it hadn't occurred to us to use magic. My arms were killing me from the effort of moving my exceedingly heavy trunk. With all of her clothes and make-up, I'm sure Pavarti's trunk was even heavier.

Neither of us bothered knocking on the door. It was all too obvious that there was no one home to answer. Pavarti opened a side compartment of her trunk and pulled out her key to the house.

I went straight to my room, and laid down on my bed in the dark. I was more furious than I had ever been. Of course, Pavarti searched every room for any sign of our mother. When she was done, she came into my room, and climbed into bed with me. We hadn't slept that way in years, but I wasn't surprised.

"All the food is rotting," my sister said, in a quiet voice. "I'm scared. What if something's happened to her?"

I didn't say anything for several moments. "What's happened to her is that she has run off with another man who is worth more to her than her children are."

I felt Pavarti shaking her head violently. "No. _No_."

And, soundlessly, she began to cry. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, and that was how we fell asleep.

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**A/N: **_The next chapter should be up in a day or so. I'm sick, so I've got nothing else to do but write! _  



	2. Pavarti

**Pavarti**

I know Padma thinks I'm delicate.

Well, she's wrong. She may have more book smarts than me, but there is more to life than studying. And you do not find intelligence within the pages of books. She's had her nose in one book or another since we were babies! But what use is that if she never even experiences the world?

Despite my sister's valiant efforts to shield me from our mother's behavior, I picked up on everything. I am the queen of denial, you might say. What's the point in confronting a truth like that? Knowing changes nothing.

Padma is the sort of person who is only happy when she is quite miserable and has nothing to worry about. I, however, am happy when I am pretending that I have no problems at all.

That day we walked all the way home from the train station, I hadn't expected mother to collect us. While I was still sending her weekly letters, I hadn't received one back in months. I _hoped _something was wrong. But I knew deep inside that my mother had simply abandoned us.

There was nothing I could do about it. And telling Padma would do nothing. She had always hated our mother anyhow. I can't remember a time when the two of them actually got along. I kept sending my weekly letters, and never mentioned a thing to Padma. I might have, had she asked, but since she never mentioned Mother, I saw no reason to say anything.

I hadn't slept in bed with my sister in a long time. When my mother had separated us into our own bedrooms, fearing that we might become _funny_ (with each other! We're sisters, can you imagine?), we slowly drifted apart.

At school, we never had much time to spend with each other anyhow, so I suppose it was good that we were used to the separation by then. I made new friends, and Padma… Well, Padma had new books.

I woke up before Padma the next morning, and slid silently out of bed.

Drifting through the empty rooms, I tried to call up happy childhood memories. It was as though the house were a shell. It was only a house. Not a home. I hadn't really lived in it for years, except briefly, during vacations. And all those _happy _memories were fabricated so that I could fit in with my friends.

Before Padma had time to wake up, I had showered and dressed, and searched the house top to bottom for some indication of _where _our mother could possibly be. If there was one thing I knew about her, it was that she was not the most clever witch on the planet. And, it was unlikely that she would have made any attempt to cover her tracks. Sometimes she seemed to forget that she had children.

From the state of the food in the kitchen, it seemed that she had been gone for weeks. I couldn't find any notice of where she had gone. No brochures or pamphlets. No maps or postcards. Not even a note.

I guess I should have expected it.

When Padma woke up, we sat in the living on matching sofas, facing each other. Neither of us spoke for the longest time. Usually, I don't like silent moments. But I knew there was a lot to take in. And I was certain that Padma was coming up with some plan in that big brain of hers. I'm not stupid, but Padma is the Ravenclaw of the family.

Only, Padma let me down. I know; what a silly thing to say. But I have to admit that what she said to me made me realize that Padma Patil is not the God I've always kinda thought she was.

"Pavarti…" my sister said quietly, looking straight into my eyes. "What are we going to do?"

I was shocked. My brilliant, know-it-all twin couldn't come up with a solution. My mouth hung open for a long moment. Finally, I whispered, "I don't know."

Padma looked extremely troubled. "Yeah," she said, standing up and pacing the room. "Me neither."

She paced up and down the room for several minutes before grasping her head with her hands and screaming. It was rare to see such a show of emotion from Padma. Immediately I stood up and threw my arms around her. "Shh… It's okay…"

"No, Pavarti! It's not fucking okay! Our own mother has abandoned us. What are we supposed to do? How are we going to feed ourselves? This is ridiculous. I swear to God, if I ever see her again…" She broke off with another shout of rage, and hugged me fiercely.

"We'll figure out something," I said. What a turn of events. In the past, it had always been Padma comforting me. Well, I guess a lot of things changed that summer. "We'll alert the Ministry. Maybe they can find her."

Of course, the only reason I wanted my mother found was so that I could murder her in cold blood. Anyone who hurts my sister has_ me _to deal with.


	3. Lavender

**Lavender**

I was surprised when I picked up the telephone and heard Pavarti's voice. Sure, she's phoned me before, but not often.

"Hey, Pav," I said, a bit confused. Had I forgotten to return her favorite sweater or something? "What's up?"

"Hi, Lavender," my best friend said quietly. She seemed to want to say something. In her typical manner, she was waiting for me to ask.

"Something the matter?" I asked, leaning against the kitchen doorway with the phone tucked under my chin. I watched my mother fixing spaghetti for dinner. It smelled delicious.

Pavarti took a moment to answer. "Um," she said. "Yes…"

Now she had my full attention. "What is it?"

"It's my mother… She's vanished."

I jumped lightly onto the kitchen and sat down. My mother looked disapprovingly at me, but I waved her away. "What do you mean, _vanished_?"

"Well… Um…" I imagined Pavarti standing in a muggle phone booth somewhere, twirling her hair around her right index finger nervously.

"Oh, give me that!" someone said angrily. A moment later I heard a clattering sound and a brief scuffle.

"Hello? Lavender?" a person who sounded very similar to Pavarti said.

"Hi Padma. What's going on? Are you guys alright?"

"Not entirely. We're healthy. But we've not much money, nor anything to eat. And our house is absolutely putrid. It reeks of rotten food. Anyway, Pavarti had wondered if we could stay at your house for a few days."

I jumped back down off the counted, clapping my hands together eagerly, and almost dropping the phone in the process. "Of course!" Sleepovers were always fun.

"And your family won't mind?"

It hadn't occurred to me that I should ask someone. I had always pretty much had the run of the house. "No. Can you floo over, or should I come get you?"

"Can you come get us, please?" Padma asked hesitantly.

"Sure. I'll be at your house in a jif."

I've loved driving since the moment I started a car. There is something about cruising down the street that beats flying by a mile. My parents had finally bought me my own car for my last birthday, and I was happy for any occasion to drive it.

Pavarti and Padma threw their trunks and the cages for their owls into the trunk of my car, and climbed in. Padma sat in the middle of the back seat, and Pavarti in the passenger seat.

"Thanks," both of them mumbled. At the same moment, both crossed their arms over their chests. Neither noticed this, as Padma was apparently glaring at her knees, and Pavarti was looking out the window on her side, most likely checking out her reflection.

"Ugh. I look a mess!"

Yup.

I met Pavarti on the Hogwarts Express. I was certain I'd be an absolute failure at magic, and was trying not to envision the ways wizards and witches might have to humiliate students. Pavarti found me, sitting along in a compartment in the middle of the train.

We didn't talk much, as I was being eaten up by worries, and she was concerned with the state of her hair, which looked perfectly alright to me. That is, we didn't talk, until she pulled out some teen magazine. I oohed and ahhed at all the moving pictures. Who knew wizards could be so hunky? We shared common interests, alright. Boys, boys, and boys.

From that moment on, we were best friends. I found out Pavarti had a twin during the Sorting Ceremony. She joined me at the Gryffindor table, almost in tears because her sister was in another house. I didn't see how it was possible then. They were twins. Didn't that mean they were exactly the same?

I was a bit naïve… But Pavarti and Padma Patil were the first pair of twins I had ever met.

In actuality, the two are extremely different. I suppose Padma would be considered the boring twin, because she is not a bossy drama queen. Pavarti is just as intelligent as Padma. She can see things beneath the surface. She in very intuitive. Padma seems to learn from books more than anything. And when her knowledge fails her, you can see how defeated she is. That day in my car, I could tell by her slouched posture, and the aggravated set of her jaw that she was frustrated by her inability to come up with a proven and tested solution to her predicament. Such a Ravenclaw. She will keep trying until she finds some way to solve the problem, of course. She tackles like as if it's a mathematical equation.

When Pavarti doesn't know an answer, she pretends that the problem doesn't exist. She avoids it, until it blossoms inside of her and explodes out. I think that's why she has terrible bouts of anger from time to time. She holds everything inside. Or so she thinks. Really, Pavarti wears her heart on her sleeve. Everyone can see when she is upset. And strangely enough, that evening, on the quiet drive home, while I was respecting my friends enough not to ask questions right away, although I admit that I was very curious, Pavarti did not seem to be upset at all. Sometimes she gets like that. A problem is too big for her to ignore, so she seems to embrace it entirely. _Yes, it exists. But I do not know the answer, and I never will. Oh well. _I'm not sure it's healthy. It seems quite defeatist to me. Her hair blew back from her face, and she smiled at me.

I smiled back.


	4. Pavarti II

**Pavarti**

Lavender's house was much smaller than the house I had lived in with my mother and sister. But it always seemed a lot bigger. I guess it's that feeling you get as a child, when you're exploring someone else's house, and their toys always seem twenty times better than yours, until you get older and realize that they were all shitty, but by then it doesn't matter anyway. I think that's real magic. No hocus pocus wand-waving crap. What's it called? _Verisimilitude._

I've always loved Lavender's house. I spent weeks here during the summer holiday between our first and second years. I think those were the best weeks of my life. We laid out in the sun everyday, and talked about… everything. Best friend stuff. Things you don't even remember clearly the next day, but that you would never say to anyone else. We talked about boys a lot. I suppose I seem a little boy crazy sometimes. So does Lavender. But neither of us really is. All twelve year old girls talk about boys a lot. It's pretty much a fact of life. Unless they're boring bookworms like my sister.

At night we giggled a lot under the covers of Lavender's queen sized bed, about silly things, like the fact that our first names began similarly.

Her mother was amazing. She always had hot meals for us, and she seemed interested in what we had to say. Unlike my mother, who hadn't cooked for years, and always shushed me when I tried to speak to her. Although, of course, even with Lavender, I tried to keep up the pretense that everything was alright at home. She's always seen right through me. I know she has, because I know her better than anyone. But she doesn't confront me about things unless she really sees a need to. And I'm thankful for that.

Lavender parked her car outside her house, and said, "Well, we're here."

For a moment, I wasn't certain whether or not Padma had ever been here before. Of course she had. We'd gone to play with Lavender several times in the past. I guess I always saw my sister as a burden on these occasions. There were times when I was much closer to Lavender than to Padma. And Padma was always too busy thinking she was better than me.

Of course, she would never admit to that. But I know she felt that way. How could she help it? Everyone told her she was the smarter twin. She was in _Ravenclaw_ house. I was supposed to be brave, and she was studious. So she sat inside and read, while me and Lavender played adventurous games such as _Princess and her Maidservant Switch Bodies_. When we did ask Padma to play with us, it was usually so that she could be the bad guy, or the prince that fights the dragon and climbs up the princess' hair to rescue her from a sleeping spell, or something.

We entered Lavender's house, and removed our shoes immediately. It was a bit strange to do so. At "home", no one worried about taking off their shoes. And frankly, if you walked around barefoot at Hogwarts, you might be carted off to St. Mungo's.

We padded in our stocking feet across the hardwood floor toward the kitchen.

"Ooh," said Lavender, stopping suddenly. "Right. Mother!"

Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen, saying, "Dinner's almost done, honey…" She trailed off as she saw Padma and Pavarti standing behind her daughter. "Oh… Hello Pavarti. Hello Padma." She smiled warmly. "I wasn't expecting guests."

"Heh," said Lavender. "Well, they're going to be staying here for awhile."

"Oh," said Loren Brown. "I suppose that's alright. Your father won't mind."

Twenty minutes later, we were seated around the dining room table, eating ravenously. I never really worried about my figure. I guess I never felt like I needed to. Still, after that meal, I felt I might look a bit like Santa Claus.

Although I do _not _have facial hair.

Eyebrows and eyelashes, of course. But you know.

Lavender's father didn't say much at dinner. But then, he never says much.

And after dessert, Lavender showed us to her room. The walls were still painted lavender (surprise, surprise, huh?), and plastered with posters of muggle stars. They were beginning to fade from the years of exposure to light, but I knew that they'd probably remain on these walls forever. Lavender has a fear of throwing away anything she might someday need.

I don't really understand that. It's not like you can't get a new whatever it is you find yourself needing. I suppose I'm not as attached to material possessions as people seem to think I am. I won't lie and say that I am not vain and selfish and stuck-up, _sometimes_. But that is not all that makes me Pavarti Patil. I'm also the funny twin. The twin with all the social skills. The twin who is good at cooking and cleaning. What is Padma? The twin who can flick a magic wand absolutely correctly and memorize the dictionary.

Not that those skills are useless. Just a bit less practical. I couldn't see her living in the muggle world. Good for her that she would never have to.

Padma, Lavender, and I talked late into the night. I was surprised at how well my best friend and sister were getting along. I'd always thought they were a bit jealous of one another. But it turned out that they had both dated the same guy, and had stories to swap about his wandering hands and bad breath. We all sat cross-legged on the floor, and avoided the subject of our mother completely.

Of course Lavender wouldn't be the one to bring her up. Lavender was never like that.

The next day, we hung out at Diagon Alley, not having much else to do. We saw a couple people from school, but no one interesting. It was too early in the summer for that. Then, we ventured out into muggle London, to visit the Ministry of Magic.


End file.
